


Nope, never

by SlicedFeathers



Category: Smosh
Genre: I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, M/M, What Was I Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlicedFeathers/pseuds/SlicedFeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this drunk, it is not edited, it is choppy, but whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nope, never

                My breath hitched as he leaned forward and brushed his arm against mine. This couldn't be happening, not in front of the crew, not in front of the whole fandom. I needed to control myself, it was clearly just an accidental brush, Ian was always so careful when the camera was around. Sure when we were on our own, he acted normal. Knocking me across the head with his hand for being an idiot, or poking me in the ribs, but sometimes, he would forget and let his overly cautious motions take on their usual gawkiness.

                Its' not that I am attracted to him, I really am not. Its' just that once all this fanfiction shipping started coming out all our actions became scrutinized, analyzed for any indicator we were harboring a secret love for each other, and I now get nervous. With that heightened awareness, came a heightened sensitivity and any action, a brush of a knee, a high five, became more noticeable than before. We started analyzing ourselves just as much as our fandom, and realized friends.... _touch_ each other a lot. A hug, a slap on the back, a kick in the shin, we had been friends for so long that the boundaries between us were pretty nonexistent. Now Ian and I were so hyperaware of the space between us on camera it was uncomfortable, and nerve-racking whenever we did touch.

Was that too much of a touch?

Was it noticeable?

Was it gay-ish?

And now here we were doing a dramatic chubby bunny reading of 50 shades of Gray and he was leaning over to point out a page. His face close to mine, I looked at him and scratched my neck, getting nervous. I was probably making the whole thing a lot worse.

He looked up at me, realizing he had crossed this new camera boundary that had been set up and backed off immediately.

"Yeah, I think that's enough for now Anthony"

We finished up the video, spewing marshmallow chunks everywhere which was super gross.

"I couldn't even understand what you were saying towards the end."

We laugh,

"Yeah I don't even know what I was trying to say"

He got up from the table, taking the god awful books with him and tossing them straight into the garbage can.

"Right where they belong" He put his hands on his hips satisfied and looked towards me, "Pizza?"

I nodded and we ordered some.

\---

We sat on the couch, cheesy goodness radiating from our plates. Ian grabbed the remote, turning to face me.

"What you wanna watch?"

"Anything" As I bit a piece of my slice.

                Ian muttered an alright and put on some south park, leaning back into the couch, our legs side by side touching. A jolt of awareness went through me, here was my best friend, next to me. His jeans against mine. He looked completely unaffected, munching on his pizza. Why was I even thinking about this? We weren't on camera, there was no one around, it couldn't potentially mean anything at all.

There was no one watching.

                But still I was so aware of, well, _him_. I looked from the corner of my eye. The hyper awareness of being in front of the camera came through. The slow movement of his chest as he breathed, the shifting of his bare elbow against mine as he lifted his slice to his lips. The way the soft skin stretched over his bony wrist. The way he bit down and pulled away strings of cheese-OKAY, I am not thinking about this at all. AT ALL. I shifted in my body, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. I needed to get a grip. I can't let a couple of OTP obsessed fans influence how I act around Ian.

"Hey, Anthony?"

"Yeah"

"Is there something wrong?"

He asked looking straight at the screen and into Cartmans fat face.

"Uh- nah, I'm just tired,"

"You sure dude, you just have been...uncomfortable looking around me lately."

"What? That's' all in your head dude"

                Ian looked at me, biting his lips and eyes looking down. He always did that when he was going to say something that made him feel embarrassed, or self conscious.

"No really...am I doing anything wrong?" his cheeks reddening slightly.

                Damn, I shouldn't be acting like this, making Ian doubt himself. He is fine, it's just me. I want to be, I guess the word would be "careful" on camera, but all of this was exhausting. Over analyzing all of our actions to see if it was acceptable, and all that internal monologue was just bullshit I am going to have to ignore, because its affecting our "off-camera" friendship.

But I felt myself biting my lip, and realized, why did his red cheeks make me feel even more uncomfortable?

"Dude, Ian, it's not you at all, don't worry about it, there is nothing wrong." I smiled, bumping against his shoulders with mine.

Ian smiled and that was the end of it. I need to stop over thinking shit.

\---

                Having Lunch, joking around on set, everything was back to normal. All this fanfiction business had cooled down in my head. I had definitely been overthinking it. Sure it was weird, but if it made our fans  happy, why the hell not. It wasn't like it was real. I shouldn't let what they write about us affect the way we act around each other.

                We had completely forgotten about it. Ian and I were back to playful nudges, and pats on the back in front of the camera and whatever someone took it as, was fine by me. Ian was much more relaxed now that I was back to acting normal, even though our touches still carried that awareness, I let it go. Being overly cautious is tiring, I figured this feeling  of awareness would fade eventually.

Of course there were the nagging tweets hitting up my phone reminding me,

"Do another fanfic reading!"

"We need more ianthony!"

"I need more of my OTP"

and it just kept on going.

I placed my phone in my back pocket and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle.

Sure maybe I was okay with the whole "ship" thing for now, but did we really have to acknowledge it? Taking a sip of water and leaning against the counter. I had just gotten over the last bout of readings where we went R Kelly on each other. That was terrible. I shuddered at the memory, Ian and I were on the verge of vomiting. It was disgusting.

Just _why_.

Ian walked into the kitchen, bowl hair all messed up. He had just woken up and looked disheveled as always.

"Mornin' dude"

"Mornin'"

We grabbed some breakfast and sat at the table.

\--

Ians POV

                Anthony was just leaning against the kitchen counter while I was just here. Morning breath, bed head hair, and a shirt I had been wearing for the past two days. He looked well put together, as always. How did he do that? Wake up and you know, actually do stuff in the morning. Me, I needed time for coffee, and food. Without those two things I wasn't doing shit for the rest of the day.

                I mumbled a good morning and walked past Anthony to the fridge. Peering in, I scratched my beard as I realized we only had yogurt.

I guess yogurt it is.

                I grabbed some coffee from the pot and walked over to the table. Anthony following behind with the same equally disappointing breakfast.I ripped the cover off the plain container and brought a spoonful of yogurt to my lips. It wasn't that bad.

                I wonder what the plan was for today. We were supposed to be shooting a Smosh is Bored but hadn't really decided on what to do yet.

Sipping my coffee, and leaning back into my chair, I sighed.

"So, what's the plan for today's video?"

Anthony chuckled, "You seriously look like a complete mess and asking me what we are going to do? Maybe brush your teeth first, then we'll decide."

I laughed. Yeah...maybe I should like, get dressed first.

"What are you talking about, I look perfect." I answered sarcastically, taking another spoonful of my yogurt.

Anthony was scrolling through what was probably twitter on his phone.

"The fans are demanding another fanfiction reading"

I roll my eyes.

"Oh god, why."

\----

Anthony had enough. Ian was freaking out, pacing back and forth mumbling nonsense.

"What are we going to do Anthony?"His blue eyes panicked as he looked towards him, as he pulled at his bowl hair.

                Anthony had nothing to say, his annoyance was slowly building up. Why was Ian making such a big deal about this? What was the issue? It was just a mistake, was it really that much of something to get so upset for? Was Ian _that_ ashamed?

Ian let out a frustrated sigh at Anthony's lack of reply. Couldn't Anthony _see_ how bad this was?

"Dude, can't you say anything at all!" Ian slammed his hands on the table. Ian felt all alone in this.

                Anthony clenched his fists, the skin at his knuckles turning white. Was what happened really that unacceptable?

"Anthony!" Ian yelled trying to get some kind of reaction out of him.

"What!" Anthony snapped.

                Ian looked at him, eyes sharp as he spoke, "Thanks for finally acknowledging the situation, Anthony! Do you think this is a joke! It's so embarrassing and you don't seem to care at all!"

                Anthony was so mad, it really wasn't _so_ bad, it was their first on-tv appearance, and sure the script didn't go according to plan but it wasn't as horrible as Ian decided it was.

"Ian, it's not that bad."

Ian paced back and forth around the room, his feet stomping on the carpet frantically.

"Not that bad, not _that_ bad! He says!" Waving his arms to the sky, and turning to face him.

Putting emphasis on each syllable.

"They-made- us- a- cou-ple!"

Anthony had it.

"Yeah and what's so wrong with that? It's not like there is any sex scenes, we just have to hold hands Ian! Freaking hands!"

"I can't do it!" Ian shook his head, Anthony clenched his fists tighter.

"What?"

"I can't freaking do it, its gross!"

"Gross?" Anthony looked at Ian with disbelief.

"Yeah! Its gay, its gross, we look stupid, it's embarrassing, Its unbearable!" Ian continued to pace back and forth.

Unbearable?

Anthony blinked.

"Unbearable Ian?"

"Yes."

Anthony took a step in front of Ian, interrupting his pacing.

"Holding hands with me for a fake relationship, is unbearable?"

"Yes, people are going to think we really are gay!"

                Anthony couldn't believe this. Ian was that ashamed and disgusted with even the idea of acting like being in a fake relationship for two minutes.

"You're ashamed because it's me?"

"What? No-" Ian looked up as Anthony began to tower over him.

That wasn't what Ian meant.

"Is the idea of being with me that awful?"

"Anthony wait-" Ian brought his hands up in front of him to push Anthony away.

Grabbing his wrists, Anthony pushed him against the wall he had slowly been cornering Ian into.

"Really Ian? Holding hands with me is so bad?"

"Anthony I just don't think it's-"

                Anthony was furious and offended. If holding hands for a show that could potentially be the beginning of their acting career out of Youtube was so bad, he would have to make it look tame in comparison to anything else.

"You really think that's unbearable Ian, that I am so bad to be with? The script could have been a lot worse Ian, I'll show you how much worse."

"What?-" Ian asked with a confused look on his face.

                Anthony pressed his lips to Ians, shutting him up. He would show Ian how bad it could be, how "disgusting" it was to be with him, even if it was just pretend. Anthony wasn't letting this job go. They needed it.

                Ian pushed against the hands pinning his wrists against the wall. Anthony was kissing him! Well, sort of- he was more like just pressing his lips against his but still! Ian couldn't do this, it was so fake, so wrong.

                The truth was Ian didn't want to do the script because it was painful for him. Painful to think of how much he would be grossing Anthony out the whole time. The whole thought gave him so much anxiety, he didn't think he could do it. Ian couldn't act out a fake relationship when he was actually had feelings for Anthony. He was just projecting what he was afraid Anthony would feel, but now he had pushed Anthony too far and he had to prove Ian wrong, that it could be a lot "worse".

                Ian's eyes welled up, he couldn't believe Anthony was doing this. This whole act Anthony was putting on made everything a million times more unbearable. His heart wrenched, it hurt how Anthony kissed him with no feeling. No warmth. It made his stomach sink.

                I don't want to kiss Anthony like this. Ian thought, I want him to actually like me. His eyes wet, he clenched them shut, too stubborn to let the tears fall.

Anthony pressed his lips coldly to Ians, pressing hard and pushing back against his resisting motions. He opened his eyes, and saw Ians wet ones open up as he pulled away.

When something changed.

Ian looked up at him, teary eyed and lips red. His face was flushed and his hair was disheveled. Anthony felt something warm pool in the pit of his stomach, even more anger?

"A-anthony.." Ian whispered,

No it was..something different.

Ian looked up at him, pushing against Anthony's hold on him. Their eyes connecting, the warmth turning to a fire,

" stop, p-please its-"

Anthony fumed, that "it's" again.

"It's what Ian, gross!?" He spat out.

Ian wanted to say wrong. It was all wrong. Ian didn't want a kiss like this.

                The anger rushed through Anthony's veins, as he closed the distance between him and Ians lips once more. This time it was a bit different. He inhaled harshly through his nose, taking in the scent of Ian's tears and coconut body wash. More determined than ever to get his point across, he took his lower lip between his, pulling gently. Ian gasped slightly pulling back, only for Anthony to find his lips again. Anthony thought for a second, should I stop? , but decided against it. He wanted to draw this out as long as possible, make the point really get across to Ian.

Wait, what was the point again?

                 Anthony shook that thought from his mind, moving eagerly against Ians mouth. He was sure that there was a point getting through to Ian. Anthony let go of one of his wrists, placing the pad of his hand to cup his face and neck and pull it towards him. He ran his thumb around the soft but stubbly skin of his neck, feeling the pulse ragging inside. The sensation vibrated through his finger tips, burning. Anthony's lips were rough against his, the hand at his neck firm enough to be felt, but gentle enough not to hurt. Ian was still struggling to get away, and there was something about that Anthony really liked. He liked how Ian had to stay and endure it. His breathing was starting to get ragged. Ian kept pulling his face away only to have Anthony's hand on his neck force him back in. Ian squeezed his eyes shut harder, he was starting to feel it, and feeling it would mean soon it would show, then Anthony would know. He would know. Ian's heart dropped as he pulled his face to the side once more, trying to get away in any small way he could. He felt so exposed, vulnerable. He didn't know when Anthony was going to stop, he didn't even know why Anthony even started. He felt his heart beating fast, and he looked into Anthony's eyes. They were dark, darker than usual, glossed over with anger, and something else Ian couldn't identify. Anthony bit his lip, looking at Ian as if it was the first time he had ever really seen him, taking the pad of his thumb and gently running it along the blossoming bruises of Ian's lips.  He clenched Anthony's plaid shirt, eyes shifting downwards, and thought for a second.

I could just pull him in, I could completely let go and enjoy it. I've wanted this, so much I've wanted this. Thinking of all the longing touches, stares, and late nights in the comfort of his bed, imagination running and hands inching slowly underneath the sheets. And here it was, his only chance to be touched this way by him.

He looked up meeting Anthony's eyes, and let the wave of guilt wash over him.

Anthony looked at Ian and the only thought he had was, _what could Ian be possibly thinking_.

_I can't, I can't do that to him._

"Anthony, s-stop"

He shut Ian up, pulling his face towards his.

_Anthony needs to stop, this isn't right for me to let him do. I'm being-being selfish._

"W-what are you doing-" Ian used his free hand to grasp at Anthony's' shirt, trying to push him away,

 _I don't know,_ Anthony thought as he pushed back, harder, moving his knee in-between Ians' thighs, and pushing his chest against his to force Ian closer to the wall. All he knew was that this sense of overpowering Ian was driving him crazy. He could feel Ian's heart beating through his chest matching his own. It was then that Anthony noticed how small Ian's wrist was in his hand, how he could feel the heat radiating off of his face, his red cheeks making his eyes seem even more blue.

He didn't remember what point he was trying to get across, but he did know he didn't want to stop making it.

                Suddenly the urges fall in, one after another.

_Feel him,_

                Moving his hand to the Ian's hair, gently tugging at the roots. Ian gasped as Anthony let go of his other wrist and snaked it around his waist, tugging Ian closer to him, and moving his hand up and down Ian's side. Ian looked up at him, lips parted.

_Mark him,_

                Moving to Ian's neck, he placed small kisses working up to his jaw line, sucking hard. Ian's breath hitched, saying his name, and for some reason that drove Anthony crazy. Forcing his back to arch up against him as he pulled Ian closer from the waist, Anthony looked down at him. Small blooming bruises forming along his neck and collarbone.

_Taste him,_

                He captured those pink lips, and Ian made the tiniest little sound of surprise and he smoothed his tongue over his lip. Dipping into Ian's mouth, Anthony tasted peppermint and the shy collision of Ian's tongue against his. Anthony rolled his tongue against Ian's, feeling Ian's hands nervously touch his hair, fingernails scrapping lightly against his scalp.

_Make him yours._

Hands touching, underneath the hem of Ians shirt,

 Ian moved a inch between their lips, whispering,

 "Anthony.."

"Shut up."

Ian's guilt melted away and he decided to let go.


End file.
